


You ruin my flow

by CiaraSky



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Sex, F/M, One Shot, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiaraSky/pseuds/CiaraSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I survived the crash of Factory Station, and I was lucky. The Grounders that captured the other survivors didn’t find me and I made it to Camp Jaha. Everything seemed fine.<br/>But I didn’t know a certain John Murphy would push my buttons as much as he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You ruin my flow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jxhnmurphy.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jxhnmurphy.tumblr.com).



> This is set about two months after 2x08. Well, the second, interesting part is.

I hid from the Grounders. I squeezed myself into a tiny crack in the rocks when I heard them come, and sat tight long after I heard the last footsteps. I was terrified.

The way Factory Station crashed, it was almost impossibly for anyone to survive. The few of us that did were mostly horribly injured, guts hanging out, to name just one. I had been incredibly lucky. Something had happened to my rips and I had had some kind of concussion (I had been out for several hours, an old woman told me), I couldn’t talk properly and my vision was pretty much messed up. But I managed to stay alive.

And the Grounders didn’t find me.

I saw Mel hanging at the cliff when I made my way up over the rocks, but I was too exhausted to be able to help her, but I promised to myself to tell them (whoever that was) about her as soon as I found them.

Turns out they found her before me.

I wandered aimlessly through the woods, always thinking about the Grounders. My ribs were still bothering me and they made it hard for me to walk more than a few kilometers a day before I searched for shelter. Also: Food. I lived off berries. Some nuts. Moss (which was hella gross but I couldn’t shoot any animals, after all).

I found the other crash side a week after I left Factory Station and was immediately treated by Dr. Griffin. She told me that my ribs were contused and that I needed to give them some time.

In my case, this meant two months.

By then, I met often with Mel, and since she grew close with Monroe, it meant that we often spent time with Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, Monty and Murphy.

 

*

 

Murphy is the worst. We bicker whenever we meet one another and I can’t even help it anymore. He’s like the tinder to the fire that fuels my anger whenever I see him. It’s irrational, I know, but… Murphy.

It’s a particular cold morning when I can’t calm down again because of him.

“It’s your turn to help out at the mess hall,” I say to Murphy when I find him sitting at one of the camp fires around Camp Jaha. He looks up at me from the cup he’s holding.

“No,” he drawls before he looks back at the cup and takes a sip. I take another step so that I stand halfway in front of him and I slap the cup from his hand. The contents spill over the frozen ground. He glares up at me. I stand my ground.

“I will not cover up for you again. I already did three of your shifts.” I cross my arms before my chest. Slowly, Murphy stands up from where he’s sitting on a log. He takes two steps until he stands so close to me I can clearly see the grey of his iris.

“But I’m not gonna do it,” he hisses before he passes me and strides away. I watch him go angrily.

“I will tell…”

“Who?” he spits back, turning around, before I can finish. The few meters that stretch between us only fuel my anger. “Who are you gonna tell?” he asks, mocking me with a questioning gesture.

“Oh fuck me!” I yell at him, gritting my teeth then. Murphy just smirks and walk away. I guess I’ll have to cover another shift.

And well, he does.

It’s when I enter my compartment that he sneaks up behind be and slithers through the door just as I’m about to close it. I eye him suspiciously as he slides the door shut forcefully and turns me around and pushes me against the metal. His hips are against mine.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he bickers and I cock my chin provocatively.

“Tell me about it,” I say hoarsely as I choke on my words.

His lips latch onto mine powerfully and I breathe in, startled. It’s not soft, or sensitive, or slow. It’s like a struggle for power. The constant pressure of his hips on mine send a tingle through my body and then, his hands curl around my waist.

No, not quite. They trail down and he pulls my shirt up in a swift motion, our lips coming apart for just a second, before my shirt lands on the floor and I feel his tongue prod against my lips. I fumble with the hem of his shirt, blindly, but he doesn’t seem to have time for this. He slaps my hands away and doffs it off. The cold feeling on my lips of his pulling away makes me reach out for his neck and pull him close again.

The friction of our bodies against each other makes me moan, and Murphy smirks into the kiss. He leans back and looks me straight in the eye as he shoves a leg between mine, pressing it upwards against my pubis with just the right pressure to make my eyes flutter close.

“You like that, hm?” he murmurs, smirk still in place, when he leans down and peppers kisses on my neck before he bites down. My breath hitches at the sudden pain, but he already licks a wet stripe across the irritated skin. His hands travel over my exposed skin as his lips find their way onto mine again. I open my mouth slightly and let my tongue press against his before he returns the pressure, our tongues swirling around one another. I want to pull him still closer.

I lace my arms around the small of his back, tugging him so we’re flush together. Through the rough fabric of our pants I can feel his erection and it accelerates my breathing.

“Fuck,” I moan in the short moment our lips come apart and my hips buckle against his. That’s when he slings an arm around me and twirls me around, pushing me towards the bunk bed, our lips losing touch and coming back together mercilessly.

My hands are all over him when we fall onto the bed. I rub the bulge in his pants that’s trapped between our bodies and I feel his breath stutter for a second.

“Get out of these pants,” he demands with a firmness, I can’t do but obey. I crawl out from under him, kick my boots off my feet and shimmy out of my pants and underwear. He does so at the end of the bed. Our clothes land in another heap on the floor.

“And now get back here.”

When I am in his reach, he slings an arm around my hips and throws me onto the mattress, instantly on top of me again. My legs spread like automatically when he positions himself between them, rocking against me.

He holds himself up on one elbow as he brings his other hand between our bodies, gliding through my already wet folds until he reaches my clit. He circles it lazily, driving me insane. I wriggle underneath him but he only smirks again.

“Not so fast.”

I moan. He leans down to tease my nipples with his tongue, occasionally sucking on them as he continues to rub my clit with steady flicks. I buck my hips to get more friction, but Murphy makes no move to give me more. I get frustrated.

With a quick application of force I knock out his elbow from under him and turn him onto his back before I straddle him – well, not quite. I’m not sitting down yet. It all happens too fast for Murphy to do anything but gasp when I loom over him.

“That’s not how it’s gonna work with me,” I state and almost smirk, but then decide to keep my bitch face. I look down from his face to his cock, the base surrounded by thick, dark hair. He’s hard and god, the view alone makes me want to sit down on it immediately. But all I do it rub myself along its length, for now. I meet Murphy’s eyes again. “Talking about teasing, hm?” I say and for a split second, Murphy’s eyes flutter close and he takes a deep breath as I roll my hips.

“You’re the spawn of the devil,” he mutters as he pushes himself up, yet again slinging an arm around my waist. Our faces are so close I can feel his breath on my skin. I reposition myself so Murphy can sit up more comfortably. His other hand closes around the back of my neck, holding me in place. “We’re gonna fuck or…?” he says with audible annoyance in his voice. His eyes are dark with lust. I just cock my eyebrow.

He pushes himself around and I land roughly on my back. He doesn’t wait a second before he enters me, the sensation of his cock filling me up taking my breath away.

“God I fucking hate you,” I stutter as he begins to thrust.

“Right back at ya,” he says through gritted teeth, his eyes screwed up. He lets himself fall forward, burying his head in the curve of my neck, his breathing heating up my skin.

It doesn’t take long before his thrusts become faster and raggedly. My head is light and my moans echo in my almost empty room, but my thoughts don’t reach so far as to worry about others outside hearing us.

Murphy changes the direction of his pushes slightly and a moan, louder than all of those before, escapes me. I run my hands ecstatically over Murphy’s back until I find the back of his head. My fingers entwine with his hair and I hold onto them as if my life depends on it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whispers slash half-moan into Murphy’s hair as his thrusts become faster still, and I can hear him mutter a long-drawn-out “Fuck” into my skin. Little groans find their way to my ear as I feel my orgasm building up.

“God, yes,” I moan. Murphy’s breathing is heavy and I sling an arm around the small of his back to keep him close. _God, keep going like that and I…_

That’s when he stutters to a halt.

And I feel him pulsating inside me.

His breathing becomes even again and he props himself up on his elbow, shoving his hair out of his eyes with the other hand.

“Thanks,” he says without any visible emotion reflecting on his face.

“Hey, I’m not finished yet!” I say in protest as he rights himself up and pulls out of me.

“Not my problem,” he huffs with a shrug of his shoulders as he stands up and fishes his pants and boxer shorts from the ground and puts them on. He then looks at me again. “I’m not your boyfriend now or anything.” He puts on his shirt and jacket.

I eye him with disgust.

“Wouldn’t have crossed my mind, asshole,” I spit at him before I stand up from the bed and collect my clothes to put them on.

“And don’t expect this to happen again,” he says as he pushes open the compartment door, shooting me one last look.

 

 

Well, it _does_ happen again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it if you were one of the few who are gonna read this, anyway. If you did, please leave kudos and comments for they lift my spirits :3


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